the fisherman's basket: a paradox...

A week before the wedding in Melbourne, we had a buck’s night in Sydney. The Brotherhood of Geezers is nothing if not flushed with funds for an event of this kind, so it was a lavish affair.
Mr X provided his 44’ Riviera cruiser for the evening, Mr Y supplied 2 cases of French champagne, Mr Z brought along enough drugs to kill a blue whale…and I provided the trouts.
5 guys, 5 trouts, 44’ feet of boat, 24 bottles of Moet, 12 disco-bickies, 10 grams of marching powder…4 hours to party.
And so we did.
The trouts boarded at 8-00pm, we headed away from Darling Harbour Marina and sped off to our mooring over near Shelley Beach. By 9-00pm the trouts (aged 19 to 22) were naked, draped like beach towels all over the rear-lounge, chewing their bickies and washing them down with imported champagne. There was a floorshow during which they all lay down next to each other and did the synchronised leg thing, which to my Moet-and-coke-addled mind looked like a set of X-rated windscreen wipers.
About 10-00pm we re-enacted a few scenes from ‘Scarface’, had our bats thoroughly smoked and sat back to contemplate our good fortune.
With an hour left on the clock and the trouts pre-paid for, we were left with the problem of what to have them do for the remainder of the cruise ?? Full-contact sport had never been offered as an option during negotiations, so I suggested…in keeping with our nautical theme…that they all growl each others’ fisherman’s basket.
And that’s where it all got a bit confusing.
They said they’d be happy to oblige…but it would be an extra $100 per trout per hour.
We were more than willing to pay up…but I had to ask the question…
“So, if we got you to spend the next hour sucking our dicks it would still be included in the original price ??”
‘Yes.”
“But if we want you trouts to eat each other out…it’s extra ??”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s the trade practice.”
“But that’s insane. You’re saying you’d suck Mr X’s dick for what amounts to free, yet it’s extra to eat Mia out ??”
“Yes.”
“Are you delirious ?? I’d gladly spend the rest of eternity munching Mia’s box…but I wouldn’t suck Mr X’s dick if I was Mother Theresa and it was the sole condition of world peace. I mean look at them…she’s all smooth and sleek and neat and fresh. And he’s…well he’s Mr X…he's the antidote to all ofl that.”
So that’s how we spent the last part of the cruise.
We argued, 5 guys and 5 trouts, at a combined hourly rate of $800, over what has simply become known as ‘The Hooker Paradox’…